8 months ago
Sunday, February 18, 2007
The Power of a "Hi!"
The Simpsons - 5 minutes ago:
Marge: Lisa, you're never going to get a husband by being sarcastic.
Lisa: Alright...no husband.
Marge: You're getting a husband!
Some staff writer in Hollywood owes me some money. That's all I have to say about that.
I did a little shopping this afternoon...so many birthdays this month, and I was crossing a little side street to enter The Gold Door (junk/jewelry shop) when I hear a "Hi!".
I look around and see a guy lounging in the kitchen doorway of Oasis (pizza place) smoking a cigarette (ew). He smiles at me. He's gorgeous. I just kind of look at him. Stunned is the word, I think. Finally I smile sheepishly, blush furiously and say "hi" back. He chuckles and I book it into the shop. He's gone when I come back out. I'd just eaten, so going in to order a slice of pizza would've been slightly obvious. Don't think I could've worked up the gumption to do it anyway.
The point of this story, my friends, is this...I wanna go out with HIM! Gorgeous hipster boy who can throw pizza dough in the air. But those boys don't ask me out. They just say "Hi". And I'm too big of a pansy to do anything about it. So I keep going out with tall but boring boys who I will never end up adopting orphans from Africa with.
This story isn't making me sound good. Maybe I should make one thing clear about Portland. Portland is the kind of town where there's nothing socially unacceptable about being a barista at the age of 32. Or slinging pizza at 29. Or waiting tables at 35. Being in the food/service industry as a career is a totally acceptable and often lucrative lifestyle. That is...if where you're slinging beans, or tossing dough or corking bottles is hip, local, and located in the right parts of town (suburbia is completely out), and you dress each day like you're heading out to see Modest Mouse directly after work. I don't know if it's this way anywhere else, but there you have it.
So my lusting after a hot pizza guy isn't that kind of dirty jonesing after a 18-year-old pimpled delivery boy...oh no...it's more like jonesing after a 30-year-old hipster who's probably a performance artist on the weekends but owns a portion of Oasis and works there during the week kind of situation.
Fat lot of good all this explaining does since he didn't ask me out anyway. But, you know, for future reference.
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22 keep(s) me blogging:
You know who says hi to me? Old bummy black men... lumpy dolts on the bus... 50-year-olds with odd hair. Yes, that's the power of the hi for me. I am so hot. So so hot.
You know, this storyline sounds suspiciously like something out of a movie I saw once. I think the name of it was "The Sexy Chef". Perhaps you should follow that script and see what happens?
I heard a book discussed today that I think you should read. The title is, "He's Just Not That In To You". I think you'll find that they also stole your "material".
You need to get with it and write your own to prevent anyone else from getting your press.
Let 'em have the full routine, Kara. Try and make 'em laugh. Do the funny face as well. If they don't go for the sassy type it's not going to work anyway. Let the bull run loose (or do I mean the cow?).
jen - i get those too, never fear. you're not alone.
future - 'art is life and life is art' or some crap like that.
goranas - you don't understand...i don't have TIME! i can't function when they're gorgeous...i blush and run or i verbally attack. it's horrible. horrible.
Most likely he was saying "Hi" to a person behind you but you probably couldn't tell exactly where he was looking. That happens to me all the time. It's usually my wife, but I think she's really talking to someone else.
But if he's slinging pizza all week and performing art all weekend when would you ever see him?
And he's be all floury. You'd never be able to wear black again.
After reading your entry, I'm left drooling... whether for pizza or for gorgeous hipster boys, I don't know.
I do so love the hipster bingo cards. I think we should use those next Xmas. No one else reading that last sentence will know what the hell I'm referring to but they don't matter, now, do they?
I just wish my husband had one o' those ironic mustaches instead of a real one. Sigh...
Your story is sadder than mine.
Hey! Where's the "uber-not asian hipster (male)" on the card? I thought I was representated here!
Eh...tonight, I was wearing a hoodie and did smoke 1 pfunk cig (though i'm a non-smoker) but no trucker hat and no purse with a skull on it.
This game will be a hit when we are retired seniors. Also, throw in a game of hipster musical chairs and some ironic and nihilistic prune juice and whoa! Sensory overlords...i mean overload.
How many hipsters does it take to screw in a light bulb?
i miss places where it's cool to have those jobs. parts of new york were like that. as long as you were in the right establishment, it was awesome to work there and no one ridiculed you. here in ireland, they're having this huge economic boom so they only think polish and eastern european people should work those kinds of jobs. i can't tell you how many people tell me to get out of my coffee shop job. i love my coffee shop! and i'm a student! ugh!
.....apparently your post hit a nerve.....a nerve that i had to dig deep to uncover so it's not really your posts falt.
i'm going now.
You should go back there every day and make eye contact and smile (just make sure you don't have pizza stuck between your teeth).
apterix - well, i was the only one standing in the street so it was either me or an imaginary friend. if it was the latter, i'm glad to be rid of him.
sam - it's a challenge i'm willing to accept. though, i do wear a LOT of black. damn.
thinker - well, when they're your age i believe they're known as "emo". but i've always preferred the older men...and so should you...when you're no longer jailbait, of course.
laura - i saw most of those last night at the laurelhurst. seriously. this town is a walking joke.
ax - silly ax...we'll never be able to retire.
devina - how many???
kevlar - if i do that every day i'll get fat...then he REALLY won't ask me out.
Just to share my experience with extremely hot, tattooed, yummy SE pizza throwing hipster boys. . .and I have some: you end up paying for everything - and they have attention span problems. FYI. (do I sound bitter? Um...)
i can't function when they're gorgeous...i blush and run or i verbally attack. it's horrible. horrible.
Next time try blushing and staying. A lot of men like the shy girly thing. In your case, it would give a totally misleading impression of your true character, but at least he might talk to you. You can break him in later.
Oh, just wait until the day when you realize that the cool hipster dude that you're mentally drooling over is young enough to be your son. It's a sad sad day.
This area is full of hipsters/posers also. Luckily I'm so old and fat that no strangers talk to me. Most of them put a lot of effort into avioding any sort of eye contact.
jane - shit.
goranas - this is trueness. methinks i've got a hankerin for a slice of the ol' canadian bacon and pineapple tonight.
jill - i can't believe you said that to me 4 days before my "spiraling towards 30" birthday. now i must drink.
inamini - YOU'RE BACK! HUZZAH! And you are not so old OR fat. I haven't actually seen you...but I know it anyway.
It doesn't matter... that lightbulb was way cooler before it sold out and changed anyway.
oh god I hate hipsters...
When a guy says hi, the correct response is, “yes I am, is it that obvious.” Don’t wait for an answer, just start talking about whatever comes to mind and then slap him for being so goddamn nosy. Guys really dig neurosis.
dev - good answer!
slag - yes, you definitely seem like the one guy i should be asking advice from. uh huh. definitely.
Like a very wise man once said "Its hip to be square".
And yes, Huey Lewis is very wise.
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